


It Was Always You

by srmutter6811



Series: Bloom [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (kind of), Additional tags to be added with chapter 2, Alpha Marco Bott, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Omega Jean Kirstein
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-20
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-26 06:54:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30102015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmutter6811/pseuds/srmutter6811
Summary: "It was always youCan't believe I could not see it all this time, all this timeIt was always youNow I know why my heart wasn't satisfied, satisfiedIt was always you, youNo more guessing whoLooking back now I know it was always you, always you""It Was Always You" by Maroon 5(OR: Jean and Marco stumble through the beginning of their newfound relationship. No angst. Just two idiots in love.)
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Series: Bloom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680901
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	It Was Always You

**Author's Note:**

> Not me using song lyrics as a summary again bc I'm fucking trash.
> 
> This is only fluff bc I finally finished "What A Pain In The Neck" and I thought, "Hey, maybe I should write something that /doesn't/ put my characters through the wringer." Y'know, just girly things. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Also the chapter title is a song by Troye Sivan bc I listened to this album when it came out my freshman year of college and haven't been able to let it go since.)

Marco’s rut lasted for five days, and by the end of it, he was physically and mentally exhausted. When I offhandedly mentioned something about “helping”, he told me that since we’d literally  _ just _ started dating and hadn’t even kissed yet, he’d feel awkward sharing a rut with me. I couldn’t say I wasn’t relieved--my brain was still processing the fact that he liked me. Having sex with him? I think I’d snap. 

Before he locked himself in his room the night before it hit, though, he’d bashfully asked if he could have something that smelled like me. 

In hindsight, we were both being such awkward idiots. We were both red-faced when I’d handed him the blanket I slept with the most, and I couldn’t meet his eyes for a few long seconds. When I’d finally looked up at him, his expression had seemed just as constipated as I was sure I’d looked.

“We’re making this way more complicated than it needs to be, aren’t we?”

His face had broken into a sheepish grin as he’d gathered the blanket against his chest. “A little, yeah.”

“Get the hell outta here,” I’d told him, rolling my eyes and ignoring my still-red face. “You stink.”

He’d eyed me as if he knew what I  _ really _ thought about how he’d smelled--and he probably did--but he’d turned around and went down the hall obediently. 

For the most part, he stayed in his room, and while I often thought about leaving for an hour or two to give him some privacy, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. It wasn’t just because I instinctually wanted to stay and fuss over him. It was because we were friends first and foremost, and that meant being here for moral support. If he wanted me gone for a little bit, he’d tell me. 

Now, his door and window were open to try and air the room out, and I was trying my best to ignore just how... intoxicating it was. It was one thing to smell it when I walked past his room but it was another thing altogether when his pheromones were making laps around the apartment. Shit, is this how he felt whenever I got done with my heats?

The way he was peacefully dozing in my lap, though, was kind of a boner-killer. I drew lines between his freckles, careful not to wake him up. His skin was soft, and his hair was still slightly damp from his shower. Sometimes I forgot just how many freckles he had.

"You're staring."

My lips curved into a small smile, and I flicked his nose. "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it,  _ alpha _ ?”

He cracked open a sleepy eye for a moment before he huffed out a laugh and closed it again. "Every day, you wake up and choose violence. Your smart mouth is gonna get you in trouble one of these days."

I traced my fingertip down the bridge of his nose. "Oh, yeah? With who? You?" He kissed my finger when it reached his soft lips, causing my heart to jump. "If you were gonna do anything you woulda done it by now."

"You just wait,” he warned. “All your snarky little comments are gonna build up, and I’ll snap and put you in your place."

I traced his jaw, and when my hand reached his chin, I gripped it firmly between my thumb and forefinger. He sucked in a quiet gasp at being manhandled as his eyes fluttered open. Interesting. “Don’t think I’d make it easy on you. I’m not some meek, stereotypical omega.”

His eyes flickered to my lips for a moment, and a  _ thrill _ ran through me. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I held his intense gaze for a few more moments before I let him go and started shoving at his shoulder.

He jerked when he started to go off the edge and tried to grip the couch, looking at me with wide, suddenly-awake eyes. “Jean, what are you--”  _ Thump _ . His ass hit the floor. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You were staring,” I mocked with a grin, echoing what he said earlier. 

“Oh, god.” He let his head hit the carpeted floor as he rubbed his face. “What have I done?” he moaned dramatically into his palms.

I poked him with my toe. “Don’t complain. You wanted this.”

He grabbed my ankle and yanked. I yelped and cursed as my boney ass hit the floor right next to him. Before I knew it, he was straddling my hips and had my wrists pinned against the floor above my head. I squirmed valiantly but to no avail. Finally, I huffed and stopped moving so I could properly throw a glare at him. Stupid strong idiot. “You suck.”

Marco grinned impishly, immune to my poisonous looks at this point, and pressed his nose to my left collarbone, slowly moving his way up my neck. “Yeah?” he asked. I turned to putty and tilted my head to give him more access. “Where? Here?” His lips just barely brushed over my pulse. 

My fists clenched on their own accord, and I scrunched my nose. I wanted so badly to touch him, but his grip made it impossible for me to move. I wasn’t scared about him holding me down like I thought I’d be--nothing about Marco could ever scare me. On the contrary, I felt safe and, with his thick smell around us, more than a little aroused. 

He pressed his lips to my neck and sucked lightly--enough for me to feel it, but not enough to leave a mark--and pressed his tongue to my skin.

I squirmed again, eyes fluttering shut. One fucking kiss and he was already proving to be better than anybody else I’d been with before. 

He just started to move down my neck again when a gurgling sound made him freeze and wince.

I blinked at him, trying to pretend that I wasn’t bordering on panting. “Was that your stomach?”

His cheeks flushed. “Maybe.”

I snorted, and he let go so I could push his chest. “Get off me, loverboy. Let’s get something to eat.”

He smiled sheepishly and moved to help me get up. “‘Kay.”

* * *

“Earth to Jean,” Marco sing-songed.

I blinked several times in a row and glanced up from the book I was reading. “What?”

Marco hid a smile. He was used to having to say my name multiple times when I was reading by now. I couldn’t help it--I’d always gotten totally immersed in whatever I was reading since grade school. 

He cracked another egg and added it to the frying pan. “I was asking how you wanna go about this.”

“This?”

He picked up a spatula and poked at the eggs, shrugging nonchalantly. "Yeah, like our relationship. We need to talk about… boundaries, especially since we live together." He turned around and faced me, bracing his palms on the counter behind him. “Like who do we tell? What changes?”

I tugged my bookmark out of the random spot I stuck it in and slipped it in the right place. I was definitely going to have to be completely present for this conversation. "It should be okay to tell our friends--they’d figure it out in a second--but maybe wait a little bit on our parents? It’s probably best if we tell them in person, anyway. " 

He nodded in agreement and went back to poking at the eggs. We both knew how our parents could get sometimes. I wasn’t sure if they would be excited that we were together or disappointed that we didn’t go out and find other people. Probably a little of both. In the end, it didn’t matter what they thought, but it would be nice to have their support.

"As for the other changes..." I bit the inside of my cheek in thought. "We should probably just... take it slow." I took a moment to collect my thoughts. I'd never been the best at explaining personal things I wanted, but I knew I had to if I wanted this to work. Marco was worth the embarrassment of admitting I was a real person with real needs. "I'm okay with, like, physical touch, and kissing too." I couldn’t let myself think about kissing Marco--or  _ him _ kissing  _ me _ \--or I knew he’d see my blush. 

Marco dished the eggs out of the pan and cracked some more in after throwing me with a small, encouraging smile over his shoulder. He of all people knew how much I hated explaining stuff like that. One time, I told him I didn't mind it if he rested his head on my shoulder and nearly had an aneurysm because of it. Talking about my wants and desires and boundaries was out of my comfort zone, to say the least. 

"That's reasonable. I really like cuddling," he said a little sheepishly, "so if it ever gets to be too much, just tell me."

I nodded. "Okay."

"PDA?"

"As long as it isn't obnoxious."

"You mean you  _ don't  _ want me sticking my tongue down your throat in public?" he gasped, mock offended. “You  _ are _ the most fuckable person in the grocery store.”

I rolled my eyes. Fucking idiot. "Right. If I’m choking on your tongue it better not be where others can see it."

He shook his head, but he was grinning. He turned around and sat at the table with me. "Pet names?"

"I don't see why not." I reached for the salt and pepper. "You?"

He nodded since his mouth was full. When he swallowed, he said, "Anything but demeaning ones like... like  _ cupcake _ or something."

I stopped shaking the pepper and stared at him. "Cupcake? That's it? Fuck, Marco, the bar is so low."

He pointed his fork at me. "Don't make me raise it."

"Wouldn’t dream of it, sweet cheeks." I noticed him close his eyes to gather his composure for a second but didn't say anything. "Sleeping in the same room?"

"I don't mind, but we don't have to force it, especially at first."

I nodded. Part of me was a little disappointed that he didn’t want me near him every night, but the much bigger whole was relieved that there wasn’t going to be any pressure or sudden expectations between us. 

"So... who do we tell first?"

I pursed my lips and tapped the end of my fork against them. “It would probably be better to rip it off like a band-aid and tell all our friends at one time.”

He shot me a cheeky smile. "Whatever you want, princess. Ow!"

I laughed to myself and pulled my legs back before he could kick me back.

* * *

**Rainbow Dash: Hey fuckers**

**Rainbow Dash: Lunch tomorrow at Rose Cafe at noon**

**Rainbow Dash: Be there or be square**

**Freckled Jesus: Please :)**

**Tis I, The Frenchiest Fry: FOOD**

**egg: We’ll be there!**

**literal angel: Ymir and I will be there too!**

**Angery: Fine**

**Blonde coconut: See you guys then!**

**Mika: *thumbs up emoji***

* * *

“It’ll be fine. They won’t think it’s weird or anything, right?”

“Marco, relax.” I reached for his hand and slipped my fingers between his. All morning he’d been anxious and restless, and truth be told, I kind of was too--which was silly since we both knew they’d be happy for us--but one of us needed to be calm about the whole thing. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right--I’m overreacting.” He squeezed my hand and let out a big breath. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

I gave a final squeeze before I let go, shooting him a reassuring smile as he slid out of the booth.

Not even two seconds later, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum slid into seats across from me. 

“Thanks for inviting us all to lunch!” Sasha said, beaming. “It’s very thoughtful of you to pay for all us poor college students in these trying times.”

I made a face. “Nice try. I never said I was paying for you. Mooch off somebody else.”

She pushed her bottom lip out in a pout in my direction which only made me raise a challenging eyebrow. When it became obvious I wasn’t going to budge, she turned her pouty face to Connie. He sighed and patted her hand. “Okay, okay,  _ dear _ . I’ll pay for you. Only this time, though!”

“You say that every time,” I muttered while Sasha cheered.

I could pretend that I was annoyed with them, but their combined chaotic energy put me at ease. If I needed a reminder that things hadn’t changed a bit, their annoying-but-weirdly-charming banter was it. Plus, it was a nice change of pace from the absolute deadness of finals week. 

“Hey, Connie,” Marco said as he approached, always the polite one out of the both of us. “Hey, Sasha. How’d your finals go?”

“I swear they jumped me in a back alley and robbed me of all my money,” Connie groaned. Sasha nodded sagely beside him. 

“But now we’re all done!” she exclaimed. 

“Done with what?” Eren asked as he, Armin, and Mikasa came around and sat down on our side of the table. 

“Finals,” Sasha replied.

He hummed in agreement while Armin patted his arm in sympathy. 

Not long after, Ymir and Historia showed up hand-in-hand. They also shared the sentiment that finals nearly killed them. 

After the waiter came to take our orders, we chatted and made small talk. Eren and I got a solid A on our French video project, and I told him that my grandma also loved it and said hello. Sasha gave us the lowdown about her biology exam and how a kid got up in the middle of it and left in tears, and Armin pretended that getting a perfect score on his developmental psychology exam was no big deal. 

It was all very mundane and just... normal. It didn’t feel like anything was different at all, except for how aware I was of Marco’s foot resting against mine and how close our hands got--close but never touching. 

“How was your rut, dude?” Eren asked while we were waiting for the rest of our order and the others were talking amongst themselves.

“Jesus, Eren, why don’t you announce it to the world,” I grumbled.

Marco gently nudged me in the side. I guess it would make sense that he wouldn’t think that another alpha asking how his rut was was a big deal. If Armin or Historia asked me about my heat, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell them about it. 

He shrugged a shoulder. “I thought I was either gonna die or my dick would fall off. So same as always.”

I kicked his foot as Eren snorted and took a drink of the beer he was nursing. “Hey, maybe next time you’ll have somebody to help you through it,” he said, green eyes staring aggressively at me. Subtle.

Marco was thrown into a sudden coughing fit while I glared back at Eren. “No more talk of ruts at the table,” I said, effectively shutting that particular topic down. 

Moments later, our conversations were interrupted when the food arrived. Everybody was silent for the first few minutes as we gorged. I tried to remember the last time all of us were able to actually go out and eat as a whole group. The beginning of the semester maybe? We were all so busy all the time that it was nearly impossible to find a time that worked for everybody. 

"Who's hosting the New Year's party this year?" Sasha asked, breaking me out of my train of thought. Thankfully, she remembered to swallow her mouthful of food before she started talking. She all-too-often forgot and sprayed whoever was unfortunate enough to be within the splash zone. 

“We can host this year,” Mikasa said. 

I let out a small breath in relief. Last year, we had it at mine and Marco’s apartment. I won’t go into the details, but there was a lot of yelling, more than a few people blacked out, the cops got called on us, and we all ended up with hangovers the size of Alaska. 

Needless to say, we weren’t eager to host again, and I’m sure our neighbors would be eternally grateful to have some fucking peace and quiet this year.

Marco tapped his foot against mine under the table, and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. Another benefit of growing up together: we were almost always on the same page. 

When we finished our food and paid, we decided to grab some dessert at a nearby ice cream parlor. It was quiet since half the student body was at home and it was a little further away from campus than people were willing to go. As far as I knew, it’d been in business for, like, three decades since it was so good and the owner was always running some really good deals. 

When we got inside, I ordered mint chocolate chip (though their new blueberry flavor made me hesitate) and Marco ordered vanilla bean, but he paid for both of ours before I could get my wallet out. I huffed, but it was half-hearted, and he knew it. 

“Hey, Marco,” Sasha said as we sat down. 

He dug into his ice cream and took a big bite like a little kid. “Hm?”

“Why do you always get the same thing?” she asked between bites of rocky road. “We’ve been friends for, like, three years, and I’ve never seen you try something else. We all know you’re a slut for Oreos.” 

He glanced at me and smirked a little before he answered. “I dunno, Sash. I’ve always loved vanilla.” My ears and cheeks flushed as I stared down at my ice cream. “Never really wanted to change it up, I guess.”

She squinted at us--or, rather, the lack of space between us--and when she elbowed Connie hard enough to make him go, “Hey!” everybody else stopped chattering too. She pointed her spoon at both of us accusingly. “Are we missing something?”

Now, it was Eren’s turn to squint-slash-glare at my flushed face. “Yeah,  _ are _ we missing something?”

My heart started pounding. “Uh...”

Marco reached over and wrapped his pinky around mine. He seemed calm, but the minor death grip he had on my finger said otherwise. All seven pairs of eyes zeroed in on that point of contact. “Jean and I are going out,” he said simply. 

“Well, it’s about  _ fucking time _ ,” Ymir blurted, pretending to be exasperated, but the twin smiles on hers and Historia’s faces conveyed how they really felt. 

Sasha squealed, and Connie had to hold her down to keep her from launching herself over the table. There were fat tears in her eyes--oh, Jesus--and she was practically vibrating. 

Eren let out an indignant squawk. “Why didn’t you t--”

Armin slapped a hand over Eren’s mouth to keep him from finishing his sentence. “Congrats, guys.”

“We’re all happy for you,” Mikasa chimed in while Eren continued to glare and swear and say god knows what else under Armin’s hand. I imagined he was primarily using four-letter words. 

My shoulders relaxed, and I flipped my hand over to let Marco hold it completely, which he did without hesitation. We looked at each other and smiled, and I knew we were both thinking that we were silly for ever having anything to worry about.

“When are you guys gonna get married?” Sasha demanded.

Marco looked at her like she’d grown another head. I was sure my expression matched his. “M-married?” he spluttered.

“Oh, hush,” Historia scolded, slapping Sasha’s hands like an old-timey school teacher. Sasha at least had the decency to look sheepish.

“Is it Facebook Official yet?” Ymir asked with a raised brow.

Marco rubbed the back of his neck. “We were thinking of taking things slow and keeping quiet for a little bit, so no.”

She squinted at him like she thought he was an idiot. “Keep quiet? You just told seven people.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well,  _ yeah _ . We’re around you guys all the time. If we didn’t tell you you would’ve found out on your own, and one of you would’ve murdered us for keeping it a secret. Probably Eren.”

Eren shrugged and nodded as he dug into his ice cream again.

“We won’t tell anybody,” Mikasa promised, and the rest of the table nodded in agreement. 

“Thanks, guys,” I said sincerely, squeezing Marco’s hand.

“Damn, Marco, maybe you _ will _ have somebody to help you through your next rut.”

If Armin and Mikasa both hadn’t punched the shit out of Eren’s arms, I would’ve jumped over the table and done it myself. 

* * *

Marco and I were still holding hands when we reached our apartment several hours later. He dug his keys out of his pocket and opened the door, so we could escape the cold. I sighed quietly when we got inside and closed my eyes for a moment. My social battery was tapped, but the combined smells of vanilla and chai were soothing like always.

When I opened them again, Marco was staring at me. “Wh-what? Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no. It’s just... You’re really pretty, is all.”

My cheeks warmed up as I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Shut up.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Whatever you say,  _ princess _ .”

“I thought we agreed on no obnoxious pet names.”

He pulled back with a shrug and a cheeky smile. “I rescind my compliment.”

I poked him in the chest, causing him to grunt. “You better watch it, Bodt. I know where you sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah. So scary.” He ruffled my hair. If it was anybody else, it would’ve been patronizing. “What do you want for dinner?”

I watched as he started digging in the freezer, and I smiled at the sheer domesticity of it all. Only a few days, and I already couldn’t imagine things going back to the way they were. 

* * *

A few days before Christmas, we both drove home together. We’d discussed whether we were going to tell our parents about us the night before, and we decided that we’d had our time to ourselves, and it was time to tell them.

The ride home wasn’t anything new. We usually rode home together, anyway. Marco usually drove, and I usually held the aux cord hostage the whole trip. Thankfully, we had pretty similar tastes in music. 

“Y’know,” I started about halfway through the drive. “It always feels weird going home together but not actually being in the same house. Like, we’ve lived together for a year and a half, so it’s weird knowing you’re in the house next to mine as opposed to the  _ room _ next to mine.”

He hummed. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He glanced at me for a moment. “Maybe in the future, we can convince our parents to let us sleep in the same room and flop back and forth between houses.”

I scoffed. “My mom isn’t going to leave us alone in the same room once she knows we’re together. She’s convinced the only things ‘youngins’ want is sex. Y’know, she never believed me when I told her I never had sex with Isabelle.”

Marco raised his brows at the mention of my ex but didn’t take his eyes off the road. I’d talked to him a little about my relationships but never in-depth. It was kinda awkward telling the love of your life about making out with somebody else in a movie theater. “Never?”

I pursed my lips. “A handjob under the bleachers doesn’t count.”

He barked out a laugh so suddenly I thought he was gonna drive us off the road. He glanced at me with a look of shock and amusement on his face. “What? No...”

I didn’t say anything, but I could feel my ears and face warming up at the admission. 

He laughed again. “Okay, this is good information to have on hand. Voyeurism is one of your kinks.”

“Shut up!” I hissed, face totally red. I was already regretting telling him anything. 

“Jesus, I can’t believe  _ she _ was into that. She never pegged me as the type.”

I buried my face in my hands and groaned. What have I done?

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Pause. “What about your other exes? Did you do anything with them?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “I might’ve fooled around here and there with a couple of them.” I was eternally grateful Marco wasn’t a possessive, jealous person despite being an alpha.

“Daaaamn, Jeanbo. And here I thought you were unenlightened in the ways of physical intimacy,” he said with a teasing grin.

“Has anybody told you you’re fucking dramatic?” I asked, squinting.

“Has anybody told you you’ve got the mouth of a sailor?”

“If you don’t like it, why are you dating me?”

“Hey, I never said I don’t like it. It’s quite charming in a very Jean way.” He shot me a mischievous grin. “And I plan on seeing what else makes you run your sailor’s mouth.”

I gaped at him for a few seconds. “Run my…  _ what? _ Are you implying that you’re  _ that _ good in bed?”

“Jean, I  _ know _ I’m that good in bed, first of all, and secondly, I already know you’re quite vocal as it is. Thin walls.”

If I thought I was embarrassed before, it was nothing compared to finding out he could  _ hear me masturbating the whole time we’ve been living together _ . I only heard Marco during his heat a handful of times and never any other time.

I gaped at him for a solid fifteen seconds. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of this trip.”

He either looked constipated or like he was trying not to laugh. “Hey, it’s not bad to have a high sex dr--”

“MARCO.”

He did burst into peals of laughter then. When he finally calmed down and wiped the tears out of his eyes, he said, “If it makes you feel any better--” 

I smacked his arm so hard it made a satisfying  _ slap _ and refused to talk to him the rest of the way home. 

* * *

When we pulled up in front of our houses, we got out and pulled our bags out of the backseat. There was an awkward moment where we stood right next to each other and stared at our houses trying to think of how to say goodbye. It happened so rarely that we weren’t well-versed, not to mention the new layer added to our relationship. We hadn’t even officially kissed yet, for fuck’s sake. 

“Text me?” I finally asked, looking up at him through my lashes.

He nudged his shoulder against mine and smiled warmly, cowlick sticking out from under his blue beanie. “Always,” he responded, breath coming out in a cloud.

As soon as I got in the house, I was surrounded by my family’s lilac, pine, and lemon smells. Even though it sometimes felt strange to come into this house that was no longer mine, it always felt safe and, well, homey.

“Jean, is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, it’s me.”

Moments later, she appeared, drying her hands with a dishtowel. She’d always looked young for her age and now was no exception. Her gray-streaked, dark blonde hair was pinned up in a messy bun, and she had a pair of glasses perched on her nose. 

I barely had time to wonder when she started needing glasses before I was pulled into a tight embrace. I dropped my bag next to me and hugged her back. 

After a few moments, she pulled back but held onto my shoulder and brushed my bangs off my forehead. “I’m glad you made it here safely. How are the roads? How was the end of the semester? How’s Marco doing?”

“The roads were fine. I made it through the semester unscathed, and Marco is... he’s doing good.”

She smiled and patted my cheek. “Good! Now come help me in the kitchen and tell me more. We have a lot of shit to bake.”

* * *

My time with my family was fairly uneventful. My older sister, Violet, recently got a job in Germany and couldn’t make it back to see us, but she video chatted with me, Mom, Dad, and our little brother Sam. We all had a group chat that we sent memes in, but it was nice to get to see her, even if it was through a screen.

My brother and I were way too old to believe in Santa, but Mom still liked to pretend that we weren’t getting older and left a couple little things for us under the tree. “Santa” got me a new pair of sturdy, black boots I’d wanted for years, a pair of teal gloves with a matching hat and scarf, and some gift cards to various places like the grocery store. “Mom and Dad” got me socks, a fluffy blanket to fuel my weird obsession (I blame it on being an omega), and a Himalayan salt lamp.

The day after Christmas, Mom and I were lounging around the living room being alone together. Sam went to a friend’s house to play some new video game they got, and Dad had already left for work.

Mom spent a good portion of the morning trying to convince me to stay another night, and I had to gently (but firmly) tell her no. Repeatedly. It’d been four days since I’d seen Marco last, and even though we texted constantly, I still missed him like crazy. I don’t think we’d gone that long without seeing each other since middle school. 

Since we were going back to our apartment that night, I knew I had to tell my family that Marco and I were dating sooner rather than later. Every time I tried to bring it up earlier, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I was nervous, yes, but I think the situation was a little deeper than it seemed. I wasn’t offhandedly mentioning a random person I was dating and getting to know, this was Marco we were talking about. This was a real, serious, relationship with somebody I’d been best friends with for nearly 20 years.

“Jean, honey, what’s wrong?”

I looked up from the book I’d been staring at for five minutes without reading a single word. “Huh?”

“What’s wrong?” she repeated. “You’ve been distracted all morning, and you seem distressed. Is something wrong?”

“Ah… no, Mom, nothing is wrong.”

She arched a brow. “Don’t you dare lie to me.”

“I swear, there’s nothing wrong, but I… I do need to tell you something.”

She stuck her finger in her book and closed it. “Alright.”

I unconsciously wrung my hands. “You know I’ve been really focused on my studies and maintaining my grades and working and stuff.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, dear, and we’re very proud of you.”

I looked down and fiddled with the corner of my book. “Well, I haven’t exactly had much time to go out and meet anybody new. Romantically.”

Her face stayed neutral, but she turned to face me a little more. I loved my mom to pieces, but she was constantly asking me if I started seeing somebody which was exhausting, to say the least. 

“Well, I didn’t really  _ meet _ anybody, but um...” I took a deep breath. Band-aid. “I'm dating Marco.”

It took about half a second for a big smile to stretch across her face. “I know.”

All the gears in my head came to a screeching halt. “What? You  _ know _ ? How?”

“Mrs. Bodt called me yesterday and told me, but I figured you’d tell me on your own time. Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. We  _ all _ knew you two were bound to get together.”

I was still reeling from the fact that she already knew, but I was also extremely relieved to have that off my chest. “Oh. I uh… thanks, Mom.”

She waved a hand dismissively and opened up her book again. “Jesus, I don’t know why you’re thanking me when you did all the work.” Which was code for,  _ Don’t mention it _ .

I smiled to myself and started reading again, the weight on my shoulders gone. 

* * *

“Wait,  _ my _ mom told  _ your _ mom?”

“Yep,” I said, popping the p. “But it’s fine,” I added hurriedly. “I just wish I would’ve known so I hadn’t spent my whole time home stressing out about how they were gonna react.”

He glanced away from the road for a moment to find and grab my hand. “Well, I’m glad they approve.”

I looked at our joined hands and used my free one to trace around his fingers. They were a little bigger than mine--more square-shaped--and they were warm compared to my cold ones. “How did  _ your _ parents take it?”

“Mom started crying about how her baby was all grown up, and Dad gave me The Talk.” He looked constipated. “I know more about their sex life than I ever wanted to.”

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing at him, suddenly grateful my parents were private about that stuff. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why’d he give you The Talk? You’re 21 years old, and you’ve dated other people. Surely they know you’ve had sex before.”

He looked at me sheepishly. “I, uh… actually never told them about anybody I’ve dated.”

I blinked and stared at him for a moment. He’d dated about six people total. How did he manage to keep them all hidden from his nosey family? I loved Mrs. Bodt to pieces, but she had no boundaries. “ _ Never _ ?”

He shrugged a little. “I wanted to see how they’d work out before I told anybody, and seeing as how none of them made it past a month, I didn’t think it was worthwhile to mention it.” He tapped his thumb against my hand. “ _ You’re _ different, though. Always have been.”

I looked down at his hand.  _ Always have been _ . That shouldn’t’ve made me feel as good as it did. “Promise?”

He let go of my hand to stick out his little finger and looked at me with a serious expression, dividing his attention between me and the road. “I pinky promise. I’ve never felt this way about anybody else ever. I’ve always been too hung up on you to fully give myself to anybody else.”

Dumbfounded, I reached out and wrapped my pinky around his. I knew Marco could be intense at times--he felt and lived with his whole heart--but I wasn’t prepared to be on the receiving end with no inhibitions. 

“Jean? Are you okay?” He looked uncertain. “That wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Yes!” I blurted. “I-I mean, yes, I’m okay. No, that wasn’t too much. I’m just still getting used to hearing you say that stuff to me. It doesn’t feel totally real yet.” 

I took a deep breath and let it out, ignoring my slowly reddening cheeks. Talking about emotions wasn’t exactly my strong suit, but I was willing to try. “I guess I’ve never taken any of my other relationships seriously either, now that I think about it. I always thought that was because we were in high school, and I knew they’d never last, but it’s… it’s because of  _ you _ .” I readjusted my hold on him so our hands were clasped together again. “It was always you.”

“Good thing because you’re stuck with me.” He squeezed my hand.

After a couple moments of easy silence, I turned back to him with a cheeky smile. “Hey, we already signed the lease for next year. We’re stuck together whether we like it or not.”

He squinted and pressed his lips together, and I could tell he was debating whether to be annoyed for ruining our sweet moment or laugh at my stupid joke. In the end, he let out an exasperated sigh and shook his head. My smile widened, and I rested my head on his shoulder (as much as I could in the car) the rest of the way home. 

* * *

“Jean.”

I grunted. 

“Jean.”

I grunted again and rubbed my face into whatever my head was on. It felt kinda boney--like a shoulder--but it was still somewhat cozy. 

“Jean,” Marco sing-songed, gently jostling me. “Wake up, baby, the movie’s over.”

The use of a pet name caused the corners of my mouth to tip up, but I didn’t open my heavy eyes. “What time issit?”

He shifted around to reach for his phone. “Almost eleven. Do you wanna go to bed?”

I shuffled around and wrapped my arms around his with a sleepy sigh. I wanted to go to bed, but I was so warm, and I also didn’t want to move. 

“You know your neck will hurt if you sleep out here.” He waited for me to respond, but I stayed silent. “If you don’t answer me, I’m gonna carry you to bed.”

I snorted and rubbed my face against his shoulder. “You’re strong enough, but you wouldn’t dare-- _ hey _ !”

Marco stood up abruptly and scooped me up bridal style. I quickly wrapped my arms around him and glared, but the sleepiness on my face kinda dulled it. “If you drop me--”

“I’m not gonna drop you. Did you forget that I go to the gym almost every day?”

I grumbled under my breath and buried my face in his neck. Even though the idea of not being in control made me uncomfortable, I had to admit, it was kinda nice to let somebody else carry my meat sack from one room to the other. 

True to his word, he took me to my room and set me down gently on my bed. It wasn’t strange to see him here in my room--we hung out in each other’s rooms fairly often--but it certainly felt new to have my  _ boyfriend _ in my room.

When he set me down, he leaned back and watched me dig into my six blankets and four pillows (I wish I could say I was exaggerating) with amusement. “How do you sleep with all that? Don’t you get hot?”

“Well, yeah, that’s why I usually turn down the heat before we go to bed.”

He looked slightly betrayed. “That’s why it’s so cold every morning?”

I looked up at him sheepishly. I definitely forgot to tell him. Oops. “You’re a hot-blooded alpha. I thought it wouldn’t bother you,” I teased.

He squinted as if trying to decide if he wanted to feed into my goading or let it go. He finally huffed. “Okay, you get a free pass this one time because you’re cute, and I’m a simp.”

“Thank you so much for your leniency, your highness.” I finished up rearranging my blankets and looked up at him, fingers pinching the edge of a blanket nervously. “Do you want to join me?”

He blinked. “You want me...? Are you sure?” 

An omega’s nest was their safe space, and some omegas could be extremely territorial so it wasn’t exactly a light request. Especially since  _ I _ was one of those territorial, private omegas. So sue me--I liked my privacy. 

Marco, though. He wasn’t just anybody. I trusted him. He’d always been a safe person--a safe space--in my mind. I’d never considered him as somebody who wasn’t allowed in my personal spaces, but the fact that he was always mindful of them made me love him even more. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Without another word, he turned off the lights and got in bed with me. I immediately glued myself to his side, making him laugh and wrap his arm around me. Burying his face in my hair, he breathed in deeply and sighed. 

Just feeling him this close to me made my heart pound so hard he  _ had _ to be able to hear it. Marco was on my approved list of “Yes, It’s Okay For You To Touch Me” people, but I still wasn’t used to being this close to  _ anybody _ for longer than a moment. I wasn’t really a touchy person. 

After a few seconds, I wiggled a little closer and slung my leg over him, making him huff out a laugh when I hooked my ankle around his. I wasn’t 100% sure what I was doing, but when he held a hand up to my cheek, I imagined I was doing okay.

Our eyes met in the dark--hazel and brown--and I wasn’t sure if it was my drowsiness that was lowering my inhibitions or if they simply didn’t exist when it came to Marco, but before I could think about it, I asked, “Can I kiss you?”

His quiet, “ _ Yes _ ,” was instantaneous.

Our first kiss was synonymous with soft. 

The way he tenderly cupped my jaw.

The fluffy blankets around us.

The way his cotton t-shirt stretched as I pulled him toward me.

And,  _ oh _ , his lips. My brain was short-circuiting because there was no way that I was  _ finally _ , after all this time, kissing his soft, supple lips.

The kiss was chaste, and when he pulled away, we were both smiling like idiots. “ _ Finally _ ,” he breathed, echoing my thoughts. His thumb smudged against my cheekbone and brushed against my lower eyelashes.

I pushed forward again and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, on his cheek, on his cheekbone, and the corner of his eye. His scent had changed, and it was so sweet that it was pure cinnamon and sugar. 

I rested my forehead against his. “I’m still awake, right?”

He smiled and moved his hand back so it was cupping the nape of my neck, gently scratching along my hairline. “Yeah,” he replied, but he sounded as surprised as me. 

“You better be here when I wake up,” I warned, but my yawn diminished my threat significantly.

“I couldn’t leave even if I tried,” he assured me.

**Author's Note:**

> I t h r i v e off comments and kudos! 
> 
> **I have some of the second chapter done, but I've been extremely overwhelmed with school this year, and I haven't had any time to write. Most of this was written during 5ish minute layovers at work lmao


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